


Arrhythmia

by DanOfVulcan



Series: Momentos [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M, Tuckerreed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanOfVulcan/pseuds/DanOfVulcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s damn handsome, I’ll grant that. But isn’t he straight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrhythmia

**1**

Looking around the armory, I can see everything’s in order.

                My equipment did arrive this morning, all that I could get of it, that is. To be honest, I’m not at all happy with the condition of the tactical systems of Enterprise as we leave Earth.

                _Oh well, at least I got the equipment just as the Commander said I would._

                The Commander.

                Charles Tucker III.

                Trip.

                God, those eyes of his. A man could lose himself in those eyes.

                _And now you’re recollecting the previous day, Malcolm._ I admonish myself mentally.

                Peering down on me, those blue orbs, set against the bright colors of the warp core. It must really be quite the trip to gaze at those blue eyes, to meet them staring back at you in the morning, sleep still lurking around them, or in the shower…

                _Control yourself, Reed!_ I’m blushing.

                Luckily I find myself alone in the armory, but for the torpedoes, and those are the best eyewitnesses to my secret.

 

                “Keep you shirt on Lootenant”

                That southerner’s drawl…

                And he looking at me from up there. It took me every bit of strength not to blush right then and there, and instead I smiled at Ensign Mayweather and took my leave.

                _It’d seem you’re already taking that trip, Malcolm._

 

 

**2**

As Admiral Forrest gives his speech, my mind keeps wondering back to the man not so far from me.

                _He’s damn handsome, I’ll grant that. But isn’t he straight?_

                I keep thinking about him, ever since we met a few days ago.

               

“Trip, this is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, our armory officer”.

                _Jon’s always so good spirited._

The lieutenant extends a hand for me to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Commander Tucker”.

 

                The accent. That gorgeous accent. And the smile, of course.

                There. Right then and there, that’s when I fell for him. When he flashed me that smile; so simple, appropriate, so very British, and yet devastating. My heart skipped a beat, for crying out loud!

                _Damn right he’s a tactical officer. No other person could do such damage with such simple an action._

 

 

 

**3**

                The observation lounge’s door swishes open and I step inside, but I barely register the rest of the room.

                He’s sitting in a chair, feet resting on the edge of a center table, his profile set against the moving stars. He has a padd on his hands, and he’s clearly invested in his reading.

                Palpitations assail my heart as my mouth go dry.

                _Get a hold of yaself, Trip! What’d Ma say?_ She’d most likely laugh about it and tell me to go talk to the guy.

                _Not an easy thing. Haven’t felt this way in years… And Ruby was no guy. Actually, no guy ever made me feel this giddy…_

                Then I realize I haven’t moved ever since crossing the threshold of the room, and Malcolm’s looking at me.

                “Hello, Commander! Coming out of a shift?” He asks me so casually.

 _Force yourself to answer, Trip. Now!_ “Yeah. Just took a shower and thought of coming here…” _God, why did I just say that? Did I really say it?!_

Malcolm looks a bit confused and embarrassed. That was too much information, the shower bit. _Oh my…_

                “So you’re planning on…” Malcolm puts his padd on his lap and keeps talking, but my mind is too agitated.

                _I can’t do this. Not now. Not when I’m caught by surprise. I can barely converse in a coherent way…_

“Commander?”

                Malcolm looks positively confused now. He’s giving me the same look he gives his tactical console when something doesn’t make sense.

                “I gotta go. Nice chatting with ya”

                And with that I take my leave, my heart pounding on my chest, and breathing unevenly. As the observation lounge’s door closes behind me, I can only think that I must do something about this. But what?

 

 

 

**4**

It has been over two weeks since our mission began and, so far, the first contact of ours was with a slug, then there was the dead crew, and then we almost followed suit.

                _Not to mention those damn tactical systems almost let us down. We should’ve left Earth better prepared for threats, but no…!_

Thinking about the past won’t change it and, besides, I’ve corrected those targeting sensors.

                Looking down I can see droplets of sweat on the floor, around the bicycle, as I force myself to a more intense rhythm, not really paying attention to my surroundings, lost in my thoughts.

 

                “Ya can bet it, Travis”

                The southern drawl catches the attention of my ears.

                _When did he get here?_

                Slowly but steadily, I raise my head only slightly, bringing my eyes to bear on him. Scrutinizing him with my gaze, I find him on his workout gear, covered in sweat, hair all tousled, chest heaving from exhaustion.

                The way his sweat sodden shirt clings to his pecs is outright erotic.

                My mouth goes even drier.

                My heart starts to hammer in my chest.

                I have to bring the intensity of the exercise down a notch or else I’m going to faint.

               

                And then he starts to stretch.

                The play of his back muscles, marked against the soaked shirt, is clear.

                _Bloody Hell!_

I can’t take it anymore. Should I stay here any longer I’ll find myself in a very embarrassing state.

                I hop off the bicycle, get my towel, and head for my quarters.

                _I need to take care of this hardness in my pants…_


End file.
